Dormice (aka Bike) Part 648 by Angharad |
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I was busy cutting out a piece of the furry material to make Puddin’ a dormouse–mutant variety. “What time have you got to collect Trish?” Stella asked, glancing at the clock.
“In a–oh shit–gotta dash,” I grabbed my coat and bag, “Can you watch Meems for me?”
I didn’t hear her reply, I was half way down the drive and into the Golf. It started first time, as it should, I screamed off down the road towards Trish’s school.
As always when you’re in a rush everything takes forever, but I drove up to the school just as children were coming out. Mrs Snooty-Knickers was walking with her daughter to their 4x4, “Come along, Petunia, don’t dawdle so, we have to get back for our dinner with Lady Palliser.”
‘Petunia,’ I almost giggled to myself, poor little bugger, except she wasn’t so small and not the prettiest girl in the school by any means. She was a large dumpling, the colour of a dumpling with hair the colour of–without wishing to seem unkind–the colour of badger poo. It suited her, she was totally nondescript. Even my little Trish was prettier than her, and Trish was biologically a boy, but then, I considered I was prettier than the mother and I was similar to Trish–if you can remember that far back.
“Hello, sweetheart,” I called as I spotted her still talking to Peaches, I wondered if she’d been doing it all day, but she assured me she hadn’t. I gave her a hug. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?” I asked.
“Um, of course, Mummy this is Peaches, Peaches, this is my mummy.”
We shook hands and said, “How d’you do?” It seemed rather formal for such an occasion, at the same time, it felt right, a little antiquated, but right.
“Where’s your mummy, Peaches?” I asked.
“She’s late sometimes, she has to get back from Southampton.”
“Does she work there?”
“Yes, she works for the BBC.”
“My mummy has made a film for the BBC, haven’t you, Mummy?”
“I’m sure Peaches doesn’t want to know about that…”
“She works for the university, she counts dormice.”
“Ugh!” Peaches squirmed, “I don’t like mice, their scrawny little tails disappearing under the skirting boards–ugh!”
“Dormice are different, aren’t they Trish?”
“They have fat furry tails, don’t they, Mummy? My mummy’s a hexpert on dormeeces, aren’t you, Mummy?”
“Goodness, Trish, let me answer the first question before you go onto the next. Yes, dormice have furry tails, and I know a bit about them.”
“Petunia’s mother said you were a lady?” said Peaches.
“Did she now?”
“Mummy is Lady Cameron, and Daddy is Lord Cameron, and Grampa Henry is Lord Stanebury, and Grampa Tom is a professor–isn’t that right, Mummy?”
“It’s not right to brag about such things, Trish. Having a title never made anyone a better person, you know?”
“Have you got a title then?” Peaches asked Trish.
Trish looked wistfully at me and shook her head, then she put her arm around my waist and buried her face in my side. “No,” she sniffed.
Before she could give anything away, I intervened, “Yes she has, it’s The loveliest elder daughter in my family.”.
“Have you got a brother or sister?”
“Trish has a younger sister, called Jemima.”
“Jemima Puddle Duck?” said Peaches.
“Not quite, we call her Mima,” I said, stroking Trish’s head.
“How old is she?”
“She’s three and a half.”
“I’m five,” said Peaches, puffing out her chest. I felt amused by the fact that only the young and the very old seem proud of their age. ’I’m ninety-five’ the old lady type, syndrome, this is usually said in a wavering voice. It never struck me why they do it, maybe at that age they have nothing else but the fact that they’ve outlived everyone else, which to me wouldn’t be a positive achievement. Perhaps in seventy years time I might have changed my mind, or still be doing time for murdering Simon.
Trish was still hanging on to my waist and rubbing her face into my side and part of me wanted to get her home as soon as possible; at the same time I felt we couldn’t just leave a five year old standing by herself in the yard.
“How long do you have to wait, usually?” I asked.
“Not very long,” said Peaches, but I wasn’t entirely convinced she had much idea of time, as not many five year olds do.
We waited for a further half an hour when a woman came running into the playground and Peaches ran to greet her. “This is my mummy, that’s Trish’s mummy.”
“Hi, I’m Cathy,” I said extending my hand.
“Laura,” she said back, “look, thanks for waiting with Pea.”
“Your mummy calls you pea?” squeaked a little voice from my side.
“I was running late and then there was an accident on the motorway.”
“That’s always the way isn’t it. Look if you’re going to be late again, let me know and Peaches can come back with us until you get here.”
“I don’t like to impose, but it’s awfully kind of you.”
“Trish’s mummy is a lady,” droned on Peaches.
“Well, Pea, most mummies are ladies and most daddies are men.”
“No, Mummy, Trish’s daddy is a lord, so her mummy is a lady.”
“Oh, goodness, I am sorry,” she blushed and shrugged her shoulders. “Sorry, didn’t realise I was in such august company.”
“It’s only May, Mummy, August is later in the summer.”
Laura mimed, ‘Smart arse’ at me, and I smirked. “Yes, dear, you know your calendar don’t you?” Peaches stood beaming and nodding in that ‘proper little madam’ mode that makes you want to strangle them, slowly. “Trouble with gifted children, is they know everything before you do.”
“I’m familiar with that feeling, aren’t I Trish?”
“No,” squeaked from my side, “I don’t know everything,”
“Yet,” I added, “but in five to ten years you’ll act as if you do.”
“No I won’t, Mummy.”
“Well you’ll be the first one who doesn’t,” I replied and Laura nodded.
We swapped mobile numbers and were about to go, when Peaches asked, “Do you live in a castle?”
“No, we live in an old farmhouse.”
“Grampa Henry has a castle up in Scotland,” piped up from beside me.
“Does he?” asked Laura half disbelieving.
“Yes, near Pitlochry, we were there a few weeks ago.”
“So you really are an aristo?” said Laura, blushing.
“Me, not really, I’m a poor working girl, but Simon’s family are.”
“Trish’s mummy is a hexpert on dormice, she’s made a film for the BBC.”
“I heard they’d found a woman to replace Sir David, so it’s you, is it?”
“First I’ve heard of it,” now it was my turn to blush.
“That’s the problem with rumours,” she continued, “I also heard she was really a bloke, if you know what I mean, one of those gender-bender sorts, but I can see you’re all woman, so it’s probably the usual BS.”
“Probably,” I agreed and tried not to blush, “Come on Missy Mouse, let’s get you home.” We waved goodbye and went back to my car.
“Does she know about us, Mummy?”
“Not yet, sweetheart, but there’s a very good chance, she’ll find out about me soon enough.”
Comments
Let's hear it for more days without any cliffhangers
Thank you, Angharad
It’s not given to anyone to have no regrets; only to decide, through the choices we make, which regrets we’ll have,
David Weber – In Fury Born
Holly
It's nice to be important, but it's more important to be nice.
Holly
Not necessarily!
There IS a bit of a cliffhanger here, albeit one that might not be resolved or even revisited for several chapters. Peaches' mother is bound to mention to one of her co-workers at the Beeb that she's met Cathy; and someone there WILL confirm Cathy's past! Hard to tell how well she'll take it; she certainly didn't seem to be too inclined to be accepting despite her compliment to Cathy. After all, she still thinks Cathy is obviously female!
Jenny
Trouble is more likely to come
Trouble is more likely to come from the name-dropping Mrs Snooty-Knickers who can almost be guaranteed to drop the name “Lady Cameron†to Lady Palliser, just as a way of showing off how many aristocrats she knows.
NS
It's fun when
someone else's kids correct them. Peaches seems to be a cutie too. Trish is fitting in very well for the first week of school.
*sighs*
After Cathy waited with Pea... Well, the bigoted mom doesn't "know" Cathy. It's likely to get "interesting" before things settle down. I, for one (and I know there are others), am looking to see how you weave this into the tale.
Cathy and Simon REALLY need to regularize things... Sooner or later, someone's going to "call" Cathy on this "Lady Cameron" business - and not take "fiance" as an excuse.
And Miss Trish, she's "almost" as bad as Mima. LOL Bragging her family, while Mima bragged mummy's body count.
Thanks,
Annette
Well, Peaches Mum
Sounds as if she'll be one to set snooty britches back if she ever tries to do any name dropping. A shallow one like her is perfect for Cathy to put down for being uppity while showing Peachres and her mum, respect.
May Your Light Forever Shine
May Your Light Forever Shine
Not yet, sweetheart
“Not yet, sweetheart, but there’s a very good chance, she’ll find out about me soon enough.â€
Hopefully when she does, She keeps it to herself...Trish's life could become very uncomfortable if mrs Snooty-Knickers ever finds out!!!
Kirri
Finding out
Hopefully when Lorna searches the BBC archives, she'll find out just how many strings Cathy has to her bow (literally as well as metaphorically!) and will respect her for those, rather than mainly historical anatomical differences...
As the right side of the brain controls the left side of the body, then only left-handers are in their right mind!
I don't say 'Thank you' often enough....
I don't say "THANK YOU!!!!" near enough for not only starting this lovely on-going saga, but for having the tenacity and long standing muse to continue it on an almost daily basis for 648 episodes!!
Somehow, I believe that this saga of Ms. Watts, soon to be Lady Cameron, could be considered one of the longest running serials on any fiction site!! That has to be very noteworthy, if to no one else, at least to me!
Once again, Thank You so-o-o-o much for all your writing and keeping us wanting to read more on the adventures of Cathy and all her loved ones.
Lisa Elizabeth
Another nice one
I'm waiting for the proverbial excrement to hit the rotary impeller, in female style. Women can be much nastier than men, so I've heard. This is going to be interesting when it does.
You let Bonzi at the keyboard again
Well, let's see just what develops from this. Cathy is famous around BBC as a ex-bloke ? Hummm, Peaches' mother will go back and research just who Cathy is, find out she's a ex-bloke and faint !
Cefin